


Of Blizzards, Boys, and Boxes

by kaci3PO



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-17
Updated: 2011-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:38:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaci3PO/pseuds/kaci3PO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hudmels break down in the middle of a blizzard on their way to drive Kurt and Blaine back to Westerville after winter vacation. When Kurt gets to work on helping his dad repair the engine, Blaine realizes there is so much he doesn't know about his newest friend and Finn realizes his brother has been leaving him out of the loop. Written for the Kurt_Blaine KissKissExchange on LJ for CXCO.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Blizzards, Boys, and Boxes

Kurt wishes he'd just spent winter break with his boyfriend staying over at his house, getting to know his family. He wishes he and Blaine had exchanged gifts by the fireplace on Christmas morning, that Blaine and Finn had spent the day arguing over whether to watch the bowl game or Die Hard. He wishes his dad and Carol were both completely charmed by Blaine and already thought of him as one of the family.

That is, however, not what happened for an entire myriad of reasons—the first of which being that Blaine is not his boyfriend. After they sang together, Kurt had thought that maybe, just maybe, the next time they saw each other, Blaine might actually forget himself for a moment and kiss him the way Kurt had been so sure he'd wanted to that day on the couch.

But it hadn't happened, and even if it had—especially if it had—Kurt's father wouldn't have let a boy he knew Kurt was interested in sleep over at the house. Which Kurt didn't object to necessarily because he'd hardly expect Carol to let Rachel or Santana spend the night with Finn. And, to be fair, Blaine and Finn probably wouldn't fight over the TV because they'd probably just agree to watch the game live and then Die Hard later, and they'd both mouth the words along with the screen while Kurt stared at them like they were alien creatures from another planet.

And as far as what his dad or Carol thought of Blaine, Kurt couldn't quite tell. Upon Blaine's arrival at the Hummel-Hudson home earlier in the day, Carol was nice to him and Kurt's dad hadn't broken out a shotgun yet, which was definitely a good sign, but Carol was a little distant and his dad was gruff and all in all, it was not the winter break Kurt had wished for.

But it got better towards the end of the break when Blaine called to ask a favor. His family was from Indiana and he'd been home with them over vacation. They'd planned on driving him back to school themselves at the end of vacation, but his dad had been called out on some kind of business trip that day and his mom didn't feel comfortable driving on the predicted bad roads. So Kurt asked his dad if it would be all right if Mrs. Anderson brought Blaine over earlier in the day and beat a hasty retreat from the weather back to Indiana, and Blaine could ride the rest of the way to Westerville with the Hummel-Hudson family since their SUV had four-wheel drive, excellent tires, and more than one mechanically-inclined passenger.

So the five of them aren't ending some magical vacation together in which everything went perfectly and Blaine made some wild declaration of love. They're just five people stuffed into a cramped car for two hours while the snow piles up and up until Burt has to throw the car down into first gear and creep along at what can't be more than fifteen miles per hour.

And then, because the universe clearly hates Kurt or something, there is an almighty _clang!_ and Kurt knows, instinctively from years of working at the shop, that Something Has Gone Wrong.

Burt manages to steer the car off the road, though for what good it does is beyond Kurt. There's no traffic behind them or coming in the other direction because no one else would be quite stupid enough to be driving to Westerville after dark in what can only be classified as a full-blown blizzard.

"Honey?" Carol asks tentatively. "Is—is everything—"

"It's fine," Burt says—Kurt knows it isn't—"Just make sure you've got a coat on, because this could take awhile."

He pushes open the car door and steps out into the snow, shielding his eyes and tugging his cap lower to keep the snow out of his vision. A second later, the hood pops open and Kurt winces as his father starts cursing loudly enough to be heard even from inside the car.

"He's going to work himself up into another heart attack," Finn mutters.

Kurt catches his eye and sighs. "Maybe I should get out there."

"I really don't think he's going to be talked into calming down right now," Blaine offers gently. "You know how people get when they're all worked up."

"This is my dad we're talking about," Kurt snorts. "Talking him down has worked…well, never."

He tugs his scarf closer around his neck and then hops down out of the back seat, leaving Blaine alone in the car with Finn and Carol. Which…yeah. Was probably a bad idea.

***

"What's he doing?" Blaine asks. "He'll freeze out there."

"Helping," Finn answers back with a shrug.

"But—but he just agreed that talking Mr. Hummel down won't help."

"He's not going to _talk_ ," Carol says, and shakes her head with amusement. "My men."

"What? I don't—"

And then Blaine catches a glimpse of Kurt bending over the side of the front end, up on his tip toes and body stretched, reaching across the width of the car to get at something under the hood. And oh. Well. That's just…oh.

"Does he—is he actually… _helping_?"

"Mhm," Carol answers, and zips her coat up all the way to her chin. "I hope it doesn't take very long. It's getting cold."

Silence falls over the car for a moment until Blaine clears his throat and asks, "So—so Kurt knows how to work on cars?"

"He works for his dad," Finn answers him. "Or he used to, until he transferred. He doesn't live close enough anymore, so Burt's trying to teach me."

"Why aren't you out there, then?"

"I'm not very good at it," Finn admits. "Kurt's a natural, though. He gets that stuff like it's breathing."

Blaine tries very hard to make this fit his mental image of Kurt—fussy, prissy Kurt who has a moisturizing routine so vast that he takes up two entire sinks to himself every evening in the floor bathroom at Dalton. The idea of Kurt digging around through metal, up to his elbows in grease—or hell, even just understanding all that mechanical stuff, because Blaine sure as hell doesn't and it seems that Finn doesn't, either—is kind of mind-boggling in a faintly good way.

"I—" Blaine starts, and then shakes his head.

There is a long pause, during which Finn stares at him harder than Blaine thinks is really fair. Then Finn says, "So…has Kurt never talked about that? Being a mechanic?"

Blaine shakes his head. "Maybe with some of the other guys. Not with me. We tend to stick to—"

"Mercedes told me," Finn cuts in. "I guess that makes sense. I mostly talk about football with my friends on the football team."

"We are _capable_ of talking about other stuff," Blaine huffs. "I mean—okay, last week, we had a very intense argument over classic cinema."

"What about?"

After an embarrassing pause, Blaine admits, "I like Rogers and Hammerstein, he prefers Sondheim. It got _ugly_."

"How…diverse," Carol comments, with entirely too much amusement in her voice.

"We are diverse!" Blaine insists. "I like football."

"Oh, good," she says. "You boys can talk about that, then."

"Kurt doesn't like football."

"He was on the team," Finn clarifies for him. "I helped him _audition._ Oh, and he was a cheerleader, too, so he's watched a few games. Enough to carry on a conversation with you about it, at least."

Blaine tries very hard not to blurt out a petulant, _nuh-uh!_ because it would be childish and also rude to Kurt. But his brain is more or less dribbling out his ears at the moment, just picturing Kurt in a football player's uniform—taut spandex across his ass and all—that all he manages is a squeaky, "I need to get some air."

After that, he promptly falls out of the door he just opened and only barely manages to keep himself from face-planting in the snow.

"You okay?" Kurt asks bemusedly, and Blaine would probably be able to think of a real answer if not for the fact that Kurt has taken off his heavy overcoat and is down to a fairly tight sweater. Which also wouldn't be a big deal—Blaine has learned to deal with the fact that he's attracted to Kurt because they are resolutely Not Dating—except that he's got his arm under the hood, turning something with a wrench. It makes his shoulder muscles bunch together, lithe and thin but obviously stronger than Blaine has ever given them credit for.

"Fine," Blaine mutters. "Just—just came to see if I could help."

"You know how to work on an engine?" Burt asks skeptically, which is just a little bit offensive until Blaine realizes that Burt means because he comes from money. Then it's still a little bit offensive, but also partly true because while Blaine's cousin could probably build a custom car from scratch, given the materials, Blaine himself always just dropped it off at the mechanic's without worrying about the bill.

"No," he says, "but I could learn. Finn says you're teaching him, so…"

"Now's not the best time to be learning," Burt answers, gesturing at the weather.

"Oh," Kurt says in admonishment. "Let him help. He can um, he can hand me tools."

"You don't have to give me a job just to make me feel included," Blaine huffs. "I'm not a child."

It would be harder to stay annoyed about it if Kurt weren't grinning at him brightly.

"Just get over here and hand me a socket wrench, Tool Boy," Kurt says airily, and Blaine flushes for two reasons:

  1. "Tool Boy" sends his mind reeling in all sorts of filthy directions and;
  

  2. Burt's eyebrow has shot up underneath his cap and he's looking back and forth between them in a way that screams, "We need to have a talk."
  



Blaine takes a stab in the (literal) dark and grabs at one of the wrenches in the toolbox at the Hummels' feet. He hands it over to Kurt, who takes it and hands him the one he was just using.

"So um…what's wrong with the car?" Blaine asks.

"Engine was working too hard, with the weather," Burt explains. "Hose came loose."

"It's really not that big of a deal," Kurt promises. "We're jury-rigging a fix and Dad'll take care of it properly once we get to Westerville." He shrugs. "It's not even that hard to repair. I could do it on my own if Dad would listen to reason and get back in the car before he freezes to death."

"And let _you_ freeze?" Burt asks, and Kurt sighs and shakes his head.

"Blaine, here, can you hold this while I put the screw back in?"

Blaine's eyes inexplicably dart to Burt, but when Kurt's dad shows no indication of having a problem with it, Blaine leans forward, plucking the screw out of Kurt's hand and holding it up against the metal Kurt had it pressed against. Another moment and then Kurt is crowding into Blaine's personal space, his breath a visible huff up against Blaine's cheek. He doesn't mean to, but he stares as Kurt turns the screwdriver, watching Kurt's face for any sign that this is meant to be flirting and not shop talk.

He resolutely doesn't think about the various implications of "screw."

Kurt glances up at him, still twisting the screw back into place, and smiles softly, almost hesitant. After a second, he glances back down at the engine and clears his throat.

"Dad, I think we've got it fixed. Maybe you should start her up."

Burt glances between them, then shrugs and slips back in the driver's seat while Kurt closes the hood. The engine sputters for a moment, then roars into life. Kurt grins, gives his dad the thumbs up, and calls, "I think I'll stretch my legs while it's warming back up."

And wow, Burt really does not look pleased. Then again, he doesn't look _angry_ , either—Blaine has a feeling his well being would come into serious question if he ever actually made Burt angry—and Kurt rolls his eyes. After a moment, he starts walking away from the car and Blaine can't help but follow.

"I didn't know you were a mechanic," Blaine blurts out without really meaning to.

"Yeah," Kurt answers. "Certified and everything. Guess it never came up."

He pulls his coat tighter against himself and Blaine wants nothing more than to pull Kurt to him, to share his own warmth. But with Kurt's entire family sitting only ten feet away—and Blaine has no illusions about them maybe not watching himself and Kurt like they were a mildly interesting TV show—he doesn't.

"You should have told me," Blaine insists, without really knowing why he's doing it. "There's—there's so much I don't know about you."

"We've only known each other a few months," Kurt answers back. "And I didn't really think it was relevant."

"Maybe it wasn't," Blaine admits. "But it _matters._ "

"Okay," Kurt sighs. "Sorry. Anything else you want to know?"

"Finn said you were on the football team."

"Yeah. Kicker. Won those ungrateful bastards their only winning game last year."

"We talked about football," Blaine huffs. "I told you I was a sports fan. You didn't think it was relevant then?"

"Not really, since half of what you were saying was about the game, which is kind of boring, and the other half was about how hot you thought the uniforms were."

Blaine stares at him for a moment, stopping dead in his tracks, until finally Kurt stops, turns back to him, and crosses his arms across his chest. "It wasn't _relevant_ , Blaine, okay? It—"

He stops, stares at Blaine for a moment—during which Blaine wills him not to get there, not to figure it out, not because Blaine doesn't want him to, but not _here_ of all places, not in the middle of a blizzard with Kurt's dad and big brother only feet away with access to heavy metallic tools—and then shakes his head, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck.

"Right. So," Kurt says. "Like I said, it wasn't relevant. I played football. I was also on the cheerleading squad. I work on cars and I blast the Wicked soundtrack over the garage's sound system when I do. What else do you want to know?"

"Everything," Blaine answers before he can think better of it.

"I—why? Why now?"

Blaine shrugs. "I just—I suddenly realized that I've known you for months now and I don't—I don't really _know_ you. The you that you are when you take off the uniform. And I want to. A lot."

Kurt closes the distance between them and stares at Blaine, hard and searching like he doesn't really understand what's happening. Then he takes Blaine's hand just like Blaine did the first day they met and pulls, tugging him back towards the car.

They slip into the back seat, shivering, and Blaine averts his eyes away from Kurt's family, mostly because Kurt is still holding onto his hand tightly.

***

"So," Finn says. He looks so out of place in Kurt's dorm room that it's slightly ridiculous. His height is almost too much for the room to contain; the buildings at Dalton were built hundreds of years ago, and obviously designed for short or average height people. Finn could put his arm up and hit the ceiling with little to no effort.

"I'll see you for spring break," Kurt offers, because Finn doesn't say anything after that, just stands there looking uncomfortable and frowning. "Watch out for Dad, okay?"

"Yeah," Finn says, but he still has this look on his face like he has something he needs to say.

"Finn," Kurt says gently, "is something wrong?"

"I just—"

Finn shakes his head and pushes Kurt's door shut, which is pretty much Kurt's cue to steel his nerves because whatever this is, it won't be pleasant.

"Finn, whatever it is, just tell me."

"Is Blaine your boyfriend?" Finn blurts out, and oh, okay, so that's why Finn said he wanted to say goodbye to Kurt alone.

"What?"

"Is he—"

"I don't need you to repeat it," Kurt gasps out, mortified. "I—why on earth do you want to know?"

"B—because. I mean, I saw you two, you know. After you and Burt fixed the car. You were walking and then you looked really upset and then you got really close and I think Burt was about to have another heart attack and my mom was making these little noises like she makes whenever I get my driver's license or go on a first date and then you held his hand and—"

Finn stops, inhales, and rubs at his eyes with both hands. "I just—if he's your boyfriend, then you should tell us. We're your family now, Kurt. And—and if you're hiding something like that, then that's really—" He sighs. "I know I didn't handle last year the best. I know. And—and I can see why you'd think you can't tell me that. But—but you didn't handle it so well either, you know?"

"I know," Kurt says quietly. "And I'm sorry."

"I know," Finn repeats. "But like…I get why you'd think you couldn't tell me. And I can kinda see why you wouldn't want to tell your dad, either. But we're _family_ now. All of us. You, me, your dad, and my mom. And if you're hiding something that big, then that's—that's messed up. I thought you'd forgiven me, but I guess not."

"I do forgive you. I just—I don't know what Blaine is to me. It's complicated, Finn. It's not like with you, or with our friends. With you guys…I mean, you're not really friends with any of the girls, are you?"

"I—I mean, I get along with them," Finn answers.

"Right, but you don't, you know, spend time with them. You spend time with your boys. Your friends."

"Well…yeah."

"Well…imagine spending all that time with someone you're attracted to. Someone who _might_ be attracted back, except you don't really know, and even if you did, there's all this other stuff attached because what if it doesn't work out, or what if people think you're only together because they're your only gay friend, or what if—"

Kurt stops and buries his face in his hands. "I like him, Finn. A lot. And I _think_ he might like me back. But in case you haven't noticed, things don't tend to work out for me too well when I like someone. So I'm not hiding anything, and I'm not lying, and Blaine isn't my boyfriend. He's just…special to me. Okay? So can we just drop it? If I ever get a boyfriend, I'll be sure to tell you so you can go all protective big brother on him, or whatever it is you plan to do. I'm just not ready for all that yet."

After a moment, Finn nods. "I miss you, you know. I don't like you being this far away all the time."

"Maybe you should call me, then."

"I want to. I just—" He shrugs. "I wasn't really sure if you'd want me to."

"You're my brother, Finn. Of course I want you to."

"I know. But—but you _left_. We were just becoming a family and you _left_ and the new house is so empty when you're not there. And I know you had to, and I'm glad you're safe, but sometimes I feel like we're not family. And then seeing you with Blaine…you have this whole other life, Kurt. This life that none of us are in. And—and we want to be. _I_ want to be. Your dad will probably have a mild heart episode, but we'll get through that."

"I—I'm sorry," Kurt says numbly, because it's the second time today that someone has told him that he keeps things back. And maybe he does, because he's had to, because compartmentalizing has become second nature, because he's Kurt Hummel and it's something he's always had to do. He talked about cars with his dad and fashion with Mercedes and not the other way around. He talks about glee or his brief foray into being a jock with Finn and "gay stuff"—whatever that even _means_ —with Blaine. And it occurs to him that maybe he's not doing this to protect the people he loves from parts of him they may not like or care about. He's doing it to protect himself from having to deal with that if they do.

"You _are_ my family, Finn," Kurt whispers. "You, your mom…you're right. I did have to leave."

"But you don't have to exclude us."

"No," Kurt agrees, and repeats, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Finn answers automatically, and awkwardly holds open his arms.

"What's that for?"

"A hug. I thought—I mean. Brothers hug."

And they do, so Kurt steps into his brother's embrace and squeezes him back.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Kurt promises. "After you get home from football practice."

"Thanks," Finn says sincerely, with as much macho-ness a guy who just bitched about his step-brother excluding him from his love life can manage. "And for what it's worth, I'm pretty sure he likes you back, dude. You should go for it."

Kurt has just enough time for the embarrassed grin to register on his face before the door shuts behind Finn.


End file.
